


The Avengers and the Spider Kid

by TheCockyUndead



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Gen, i wrote this waaay back in the day before AoU and homecoming, peter meets the avengers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-21 12:15:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13740672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCockyUndead/pseuds/TheCockyUndead
Summary: Peter receives an invitation to Stark Tower for a "Friday Night of Fun." He isn't sure what to expect, but there's no way he's going to let this opportunity pass.ORPeter meets the Avengers for the first time and the team somehow manages not to scare him away





	The Avengers and the Spider Kid

**[The Avengers and the Spider Kid]**

Listen, Peter was just trying to make it through high school without getting severally killed or injured. After everything that had happened to him since gaining his powers, Peter figured he could handle anything that life decided to throw his way.

But what he hadn't anticipated was receiving an invitation from Mr. Tony Stark for a "Friday Night of Fun." The wording was a little weird (almost like a parent trying to be hip and cool for the kids) and while Peter almost didn't believe that it was actually sent by Tony, he also didn't think Flash and his goons would know how to convincingly pretend to send Peter an email from Tony Stark.

So after the appropriate amount of time spent hyperventilating about the fact that  _Tony freakin' Stark_  had for some reason emailed him an invitation to his Tower, Peter took the invitation and himself to Avenger Tower on Friday night.

Peter stood outside the tower, clutching the printed out invitation in one hand while the other twitched nervously at his side. He craned his neck as his eyes traveled slowly up the side of the tower, all the way to the top where the lit letters spelled out exactly who was residing inside.

After another minute of silently debating with himself, Peter jerked forward and pushed open the glass doors, stepping inside the reception area.

The large, white room was empty and cold.

There was a lonesome reception desk in the middle of it all, but no one was sitting behind it.

With no other options, Peter hesitantly stepped forward. His sneakers tapped against the marble floor, echoing through the room.

Feeling like an idiot, but not knowing what else to do, Peter placed his palms onto the desk and leaned forward and looking around as if the receptionist was hiding beneath the desk.

"Uh...excuse me?" Peter said, clearing his throat awkwardly.

Obviously, there was no answer from the empty desk.

"Idiot," Peter muttered, raking a hand through his brown hair, leaving it sticking up in all directions. He stepped back from the desk, unsure of what to do next.

"Good evening, sir," a voice suddenly rang out, startling Peter.

He jerked back from the desk, hands raising up in a belated attempt to protect his face.

"There is no need to be alarmed, Mr. Parker. I'm sorry if I frightened you. I am Jarvis, Mr. Stark's IA."

Peter swallowed, letting his hands drop back to his sides. "You're an IA?" He looked around, not sure where to direct his question.

"That is correct."

"Huh." Peter wasn't sure what the appropriate reaction was.

"If you'll follow me, sir."

Peter cocked his head to the side, not sure if the IA was making fun of him.

The elevator doors behind the desk pinged open, making Peter jump again. He frowned in the general direction of where he guessed the voice was coming from, but then stepped forward, circling around the desk and striding to the elevator. He paused only a second before going inside.

The doors slid shut and the elevator immediately began to rise. AC/DC faintly played above Peter's head.

"Interesting choice in music," Peter said quietly, more to himself than Jarvis, but the IA answered him anyway.

"Mr. Stark likes to be interesting." And then after a brief pause. "Here we are, sir."

The elevator stopped, the doors opening a second later.

Haltingly, Peter stepped out into an empty hall. He slowly made his way down it, following the sound of voices, while desperately trying not to think about  _The Shining_  and creepy twins that liked to frequent halls.

Peter paused when he got to the end, peering into what looked like an entertainment area.

There was a small, but still amazing kitchen on one end of the room, while a large TV, surrounded by couches and pillows sat on the other side. There was also arcade games and a pool table somewhere in the middle.

Several people were littered across the room. Two men were in the kitchen, making something on the stove and from the smell of it, Peter guessed it was popcorn.

A tired looking man was slumped on one of the armchairs by the TV, leaning his head against one hand while he looked up at another man who was excitedly talking. Peter recognized the excited man as Tony Stark, and had a quick moment of panic and delight at the sight of his idol.

But that was all dashed away when a red-haired woman entered the kitchen from another entrance. She glanced at Peter before stopping next to the shorter of the two men in the kitchen.

"Who's the kid?" she asked, effectively cutting off all conversations as everyone looked up and followed the woman's gaze.

"Alright, who invited the Spider Kid?"

Peter's eyes flicked to the voice, heart tightening when he realized it was Tony Stark who had asked the question.

He blinked rapidly as his mind raced through three different questions. First, Stark hadn't invited him? Second, he  _knew_  that Peter was Spider-Man? Third, it was Spider- _Man_ , not Spider-Kid.

"Uh, I—Listen, I'm not sure—," Peter stuttered, vehemently wishing that he had never come. "I was sent...I was invited." He held up the creased letter as proof. "But, like, I can totally just leave now and we can all pretend that this didn't happen."

Everyone was leaning forward, squinting at the letter.

"Actually, it's—I'm just going to go," Peter said, feeling his cheeks heat. He took a step backwards, but froze when Tony sprang forward a wide grin on his face.

"I'm joking, kid! I remember inviting you. C'mon in."

Peter wasn't sure his heart could take anymore plot twists, so he didn't move from his frozen spot in the hall. One hand was still clutching the invitation while the other had somehow found itself pressed against his chest in a vague attempt to comfort his poor heart.

Tony stopped a few feet away from him, giving him a concerned look.

"Are you okay, kid?"

Peter stared at him, and when he found that he couldn't say anything he gave Tony a short shrug.

Tony's eyes narrowed and he reached a hand out, waiting for Peter to grasp it.

Peter's mouth fell open and he tentatively took Tony's hand, trying to savor the moment of finally meeting his hero.

"That's better," Tony said. "For a moment there, I thought I'd broken you." He turned, gesturing for Peter to follow him.

He took Peter into the small kitchen to presumably introduce him to the rest of the Avengers (because, really, who else could all these people be?), but before he could get a word out someone shouted, "The popcorn!"

The groups' attention was suddenly redirected to the shorter man, who was swearing as he pulled the pot off the stove. A burning smell filled the air, making Peter wrinkle his nose.

"You should have just used microwave popcorn," Tony said, hovered behind the man.

"Tony?" the short man said, still fussing over salvaging the popcorn.

"Yeah, buddy?"

"Shut the hell up."

Peter watched this exchange in a sort of fog as he processed what was happening. He slumped against the granite counter, bringing both hands up to rub at his face. He was relieved that no one was looking at him anymore, because  _holy-freaking-cow_  he was standing in the same room as the Avengers and, okay, yeah, he was fanboying a bit.

"Hey there." A new voice broke into Peter's fanboy induced haze. He looked up and around, eyeing the other man who had been standing in the kitchen. He tried not to think about how the man's arms were probably the size of Peter's head (as in: the man was insanely muscled).

"Uh, hey," Peter said, trying to play it cool.

"I'm Steve." He held out his hand for Peter to shake, which Peter did after a quick moment of  _holy-shit-that's-Captain-America_.

When Steve released his hand, Peter unknowingly brought his hand back to his chest, clutching it to himself.

Steve's mouth twitched, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he pointed behind Peter to the tired man that Tony had been talking to earlier.

"That's Bruce."

Banner? Peter wondered, staring at the man with renewed interest.

"I'm not sure if Thor is going to show up tonight," Steve added after Peter pulled his attention away from Bruce.

Peter blinked.

"You know," Steve said, "the god of thunder?"

"Um, yeah," Peter said in a strangled voice. "I think I've heard of him."

Steve hid a smirk, which Peter saw anyway but didn't care because there was a chance that an actual Norse god might make an appearance and really this evening was the thing that dreams were made of.

"And that's Clint and Natasha," Steve continued, bringing Peter's attention back to the stove.

Clint, the man with the popcorn, looked up at the sound of his name, giving Peter a strained smile. Natasha, who was sitting on the counter near Clint, gave Peter a wave, which somehow looked more threatening than Peter thought it should.

Peter placed his ruined invitation onto the counter, trying act like this was no big deal to him, but probably not succeeding.

"So, uh, what are you guys doing?" Peter winced; the question had sounded better in his head, more chill and calm instead of the vaguely aggressive way it came out.

Tony turned away from Clint and faced Peter again.

"We're having a Friday Night of Fun, kid," he said with a grin.

"Ooookay," Peter said, nodding. "Sure. That sounds like...what does that mean?"

"It means, you're here, among friends about to watch a great film—"

"We haven't been able to decide on a movie for the past three weeks," Clint interjected, abandoning the popcorn and turning to face the conversation.

Tony continued as if he hadn't been interrupted, "And eat popcorn—"

"Burned popcorn." Clint again.

Tony whipped around, glaring at Clint. "Will you please shut up, Barton? I'm trying to show the kid that we're actually pretty cool people that have a great time together."

Tony didn't have to sell anything, Peter silently mouthed to himself. He was already sold that this was probably the greatest night of his life.

"You're trying to sell this to the kid?" Clint said, ignoring Tony's command to shut up. "Why? You want him to join the gang?"

Tony's eyebrows rose, and he turned away from Peter to face Clint again.

"What's your deal, Barton? You've been snippy all night. PMSing or something, huh?"

"Nope," Clint said, stepping forward. "Just in the mood to take someone's head off."

Peter wasn't sure if he was joking or not and took a step back. Tony apparently wasn't sure either and also stepped away.

"Just pissed that you burned your popcorn, huh Katniss?" Tony said, who despite sensing the danger, apparently had to have the last word.

Clint's head cocked to the side as he gave Tony a long look before starting to stride forward.

Peter had another mini heart attack, but was saved from having to watch Tony battle it out with Hawkeye when Natasha hopped off the counter and placed a hand on Clint's arm, stopping him in his tracks.

"Easy there, boys. We have a guest."

The tension that had been crackling overhead, eased a little as both men glanced at Peter. Tony's eyes softened, but Clint still looked like he wanted to murder someone (but maybe he always looked that, Peter wasn't sure).

"Sorry, kid," Tony offered, giving Peter a half smile.

Peter decided not to point out that they really shouldn't be apologizing to him, but rather to each other. But he didn't think the two grown adults would appreciate being told to make up with each other by a teenager.

"Come on, Tony," Natasha said, moving past Clint and taking Tony's arm. "Let's go look at your movies."

"Natasha," Tony started to complain, but allowed himself to be dragged away.

"Bruce needs company anyway," Natasha said, giving Tony a look that silenced him.

Peter watched them go, wondering what he was missing.

"Sorry about that."

Peter turned back around, seeing Clint looking at him. His murder look had gone a little soft and Peter wasn't actively fearing for his life anymore.

Peter shrugged, not sure what Clint was looking for.

"Don't worry about him, Clint," Steve said, speaking up for the first time since introducing everyone to Peter. He was still standing next to Peter with his arms crossed over his chest. Peter had almost forgotten he was standing there.

"I'm not worrying about him," Clint said, shooting Steve a look that Peter couldn't read. He turned his back on Peter and Steve, opening the double door fridge and sticking his head inside.

"He can be a little frustrating at times," Steve continued. "We all know it."

"I'm not frustrated," Clint replied, voice floating out from the fridge.

"You're not frustrated? Is that why you're halfway in Tony's refrigerator, digging for ingredients to make." Steve paused, eyeing the items that Clint had been tossing out. "To make cupcakes?"

Clint's back tensed and Peter heard a muffled complaint about how he just couldn't get away from Tony and everything Tony owned. But then a moment later, Clint sighed and pulled himself from the fridge. "Cupcakes. Yeah, I was going to make some cupcakes."

Steve's lips twitched, but he didn't grin. Probably because he actually wanted to live; Peter didn't think Clint would like being made fun of for making a dessert.

"I've noticed that when someone, usually Tony, starts to get on your nerves you always start to make something."

Clint shrugged, hands full of a carton of eggs. "It relaxes me."

Peter's lips twitched; he had the sudden and vivid image of Clint in a frilly apron and chef's hat jumping around the kitchen like the Swedish Chef from the Muppets.

"This funny to you, kid?" Clint said, eyes narrowing at Peter.

Peter froze, heart stopping again (seriously, this whole evening, while being the best night of his life, was really testing him).

"I mean," Peter wavered, looking from Clint to Steve and then to the ingredients, "a little, yeah."

Clint's frown deepened, but for some reason all Peter could see what the man in an apron. A laugh escaped his mouth before he could stop it. His eyes widened and he clapped both hands to his lips in a belated attempt to stop it.

To his relief and surprise, Clint let out a laugh too.

"I don't really like look I bake, do I?"

"Not really, no," Peter said, glad that his life wasn't in danger.

"Well, Peter," Clint said, moving closer to the counter where all his ingredients were, "you haven't tasted my chocolate cupcakes. They're damn good. Tell him, Cap."

Steve was agreeing with Clint, but Peter had stopped paying attention the moment Clint used his name. His stomach was clenching and also doing funny little summersaults. He hadn't told anyone his name. He knew, somewhere in the back of his head, that Tony obviously knew who he was; it wasn't like he was wearing his Spider-Man mask now, and everyone here clearly knew that he was Spider-Man. But to have someone, he barely knew actually use his real name had thrown Peter into a hole of panic.

"What's wrong? Peter?" Steve was leaning close to Peter, hands reaching out to grasp Peter's shoulders.

"I just," Peter said, voice faint, "I didn't realize that you guys knew who I am. I mean, like I know that you know that I'm Spider-Man, but, like, you also know that I'm Peter?" Peter frowned and starting using both hands to help explain somewhere in the middle of his sentence. "It's just very confusing, you know? Because, no one actually knows about the two of us. Well, obviously, there's only one of us, but I mean, that Spider-Man and Peter are the same person—"

"Whoa there," Steve said, breaking into Peter's babble. "Easy there, kid. Deep breath."

Peter obediently sucked in a lungful of air, eyes locked on to Steve's.

"We all know about you," Steve said.

"Yeah, Tony's been very interested," Clint put it, and then added, "Sorry for springing your real name on you." He frowned. "What a strange sentence that is."

"It's okay," Peter said, as Steve let go of his shoulders and stepped back. "I'm just having a moment."

"Just so there's no more surprises," Clint said, hopping onto the counter. "The Avengers know about you, but so does SHIELD. But from what I hear, they're fine with your operation as it is." He paused. "I mean, I think only Fury really knows your real identity, but that's because it's Fury and he makes it his business to know everything."

"Of course," Peter agreed, wondering who the hell Fury was.

"But Naaaaaaat," Tony's voice rose up from across the room. "They're all bonding over there! I wanna go back to the kitchen—" He was abruptly cut off as Natasha grabbed the front of his shirt.

"Don't call me Nat," she said.

"But Clint and Steve call you that," Tony said in a strangled voice.

"Yes, but that's because I let them."

"And you don't let me?" Tony demanded, offended.

Steve sighed, watching the exchange. "I'm going to go help." He set off across the room, leaving Clint and Peter alone.

Peter and Clint glanced at each other and then at the items on the counter.

"So…" Peter said, coming around to stand next to where Clint was sitting on the counter. "Are we going to make cupcakes or what?"

Clint grinned. "Hell yeah we are!"

* * *

Little did Peter know that his visit to Avenger Tower had been discussed for weeks; Fury had wanted the Avengers to take the Spider under their wing and show him the ropes. Like normal, they just couldn't decide how to approach Peter without scaring him.

Tony had then, without telling anyone, sent an invitation to Peter and hoped for the best.

It had turned out well, better than Tony or Fury could have hoped. Peter was an easy kid to get along with. In no time, he went from baking cupcakes with Hawkeye to talking science with the Hulk, to picking a movie with Captain America and Black Widow before finally settling on the couch with Iron Man.

"So, kid," Tony said as the opening credits started.

Peter looked from the screen to Tony.

"I was thinking, you seem to have an alright brain."

"Thank you?"

"And that combined with the fact that I like you, makes you a perfect candidate for my high school internship starting in the spring."

Peter's mouth fell open and he completely abandoned the idea of trying to act cool, turning to fully face the man.

"Are you serious, Mr. Stark?!"

Tony sent him a wry grin. "I take that as a yes?"

"Yesyesyes—I mean, sure, yeah, that would be really cool," Peter said, trying to salvage what was left of his dignity.

"Would you two shut up over there?" Clint demanded, but when Peter swung around to look at the other man, he could see a smile on Clint's lips. "We're trying to watch a movie here."

"Give the kid a minute, Katniss," Tony said. "He's just been offered the best job of his life. It might take a second for him to process that."

"Tony," Natasha said conversationally. "Stop calling Clint names, and while you're at it, stop talking before I go over there and stuff something in your mouth."

Peter was suddenly glad that Clint and Steve sat between Natasha and Tony.

"Don't worry," Tony said, waving a hand and leaning towards Peter, "she loves me."

"No, I don't," Natasha said.

"Shhhhhh," Clint and Steve said together, shooting annoyed glances at the offending parties.

"Yeah," Bruce interjected, "the other guy is enjoying the movie. So maybe keep it down?"

Everyone's mouth snapped shut and they forced their attention back to the movie.

After a few minutes, the group of Avengers and their new Spider friend relaxed and a comfortable silence fell over them.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this before we got that garbage movie (aka AoU) and waaaay before Homecoming, so obviously this isn't canon compliant. But it was a fun story to write and I liked enough that I recently went back and made some edits/changes to the original and now we have this.  
> Hopefully you all enjoy it.


End file.
